


Of Liars And Con Artists

by Toe_Separator



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, DiNozzo Senior's Bad Parenting, Episode: s07e12 Flesh and Blood, Gen, Hurt Tony DiNozzo, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Past Child Abuse, Senior Is Not A Nice Guy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toe_Separator/pseuds/Toe_Separator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's Father is in town and with his presence, some long buried secrets are uncovered. Long story short, it's not fun being Tony, and Gibbs might just have to shoot the bastard. My take on Season 7 Episode Flesh and Blood, in which Daddy DiNozzo is not as pleasant as depicted in the show. Lots of angst and some whump. Poor, poor Tony. Please heed the warnings!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey everybody! (Hello Doctor Nick! Wait what?) *coughs awkwardly*
> 
> This idea has been swirling in my head for quite a while now so I decided to try writing it down and seeing what happens. I have approximately one more chapter of this written already but I thought I'd post this here and see what the reception is like. That is: do you guys like it? Hate it? Should I continue it or delete this story, go hide under my desk and forget this whole fiasco ever happened? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think! :) Constructive criticism is also highly appreciated (how else am I ever going to become a better writer?)! English is not my first language so if you notice some mistakes or brainfarts please notify me so I can fix them (I did proofread but am not sure if I caught everything) :) Okay I'll stop now, on with the story!
> 
> Also posted in fanfiction.com

Tony frowned slightly. A few more days babysitting Prince Sayif didn't sound that bad but for some reason he could feel a bit of nervous energy building up inside him, as if his gut was trying to warn him. As he turned to leave MTAC and Gibbs, a gleeful McGee came in half-running and fell in step with the older agent.

"You have a visitor." McGee's face was littered with smugness from knowing something Tony didn't.

"Who?" His gut started churning. This didn't seem promising.

If possible, that made McGee smile even more smugly. "You'll see."

"Tell me!" He demanded.

"No."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at his bickering agents as Tony started to get frustrated.

"What's the matter with you?"

He walked up the ramp to exit MTAC and next to the railing only to stop on his track when he got a look at his mysterious "visitor". _Oh no. Oh hell no._ This could not be happening. Not now. Not when he _finally_ had found a place where he could at least pretend that he was wanted.

He could feel some color leaving his face despite his best attempts to keep on the mask. He then proceeded to kneel down with a childish hope that maybe he wouldn't see him and then maybe he would go away. He even stopped breathing so as to be more quiet. _Please don't let him notice me._

From below he could faintly make out his Father's voice over the loudness of blood rushing in his ears though the words were lost to him. Was he panicking? It almost felt like he was panicking. Oh, yeah, holding his breath. Right. Maybe he should breathe. He sucked in air as silently as possible, eyes fixed on the man inside their little cubicle. He felt dizzy. But Dinozzo's don't faint. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. Kind of like all the lessons Father taught him. Tony was barely able to contain the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside him.

_You see your Father and have a miniature meltdown? Well isn't that just pathetic._

"JUNIOR!" A booming voice distracted him from his thoughts. Father was staring right at him, seemingly beaming from joy at the sight of his son. But Tony knew better. Everything he knew about charming, lying, deflection, acting, smoke and mirrors, he had learned from the best. And right now he was witnessing Father's oh so familiar I-really-love-and-care-about-my-only-son mask, the one he always wore in public because of "must keep up the appearances". _Shit._ He was royally screwed.

It disgusted him slightly how easily he slipped back onto his role. _I'm not twelve and scared anymore!_ Except that's exactly how he felt. A fake smile slipped on his lips with ease, not that anyone would notice the lack of authenticity. Practise had made him so damn good at what he does.

"Hey Dad. What are you doing here?"

 

_NCISNCIS_

 

Tim was sizzling with glee. He couldn't believe he just met Tony's dad! And that he called Tony "Junior". Tim snickered. He was never going to let Tony live this one down.

He hurried into MTAC to smugly inform his friend of his visitor. _This is going to be priceless._ He walked out next to Tony and stopped on his side as he came to a halt. Then Tony slowly kneeled down, as if he didn't wish to be seen. That's what made Tim glance at his face which had gone a few shades paler. His smile changed into a concerned frown. "Tony?"

He heard Anthony Dinozzo Senior talking to Ziva downstairs. "Junior mentioned you to me, but he never told me what you look like."

Wait a minute, was Ziva blushing? Tim struggled to keep his jaw shut.

"You are _stunning_ Ziva! Do you ever think of wearing your hair down?" The man continues with a charming smile.

Tim rolled his eyes. So that's where Tony got his charm from.

Ziva, a bit flustered, was just about to answer when her gaze wandered up to the railing, noticing McGee and DiNozzo. DiNozzo Senior followed her gaze and his face absolutely lit up.

"JUNIOR!" He yelled happily.

Tim turned to Tony as the man got up with a lopsided grin, still looking a bit pale but not as much as before.

"Hey Dad. What are you doing here?"

The Senior Field Agent started walking down the stairs with Tim on his right as his dad chuckled warmheartedly. "What, can't I come say hello to my only son every once in awhile?"

"I guess you're right," Tony replied. "Have you met everyone already?"

"So far I've only had the pleasure of meeting your absolutely beautiful partner here," He smiled to Ziva and gave a small wink.

Ziva returned the smile. "You know, I was over the impression that you and Tony did not talk much to each other."

"Under," Tony muttered.

Ziva frowned. "What?"

Tim stepped in helpfully, "He meant "under" the impression, not over," at the same time as Senior clasped his hand on his son's shoulder. A flicker of pain flew through the SFA:s, features unseen by anyone as it quickly returned to the very mild version of his usual megawatt-smile.

Before Ziva had a chance to come up with a retort, Dinozzo Senior answered, "Well, the truth is we don't see that often but we call each other almost weekly, right Junior?"

"Yeah, something like that..."

At that moment the elevator dinged, and Prince Sayif walked out with his security detail. Ziva looked at Tony with his father next to him and said, "Me and McGee can handle this so you can have time to catch up."

"Yeah, thanks," Tony mumbled as she and McGee walked up to the Prince and escorted him away.

 

_NCISNCIS_

 

Tony was on autopilot. He walked downstairs, exchanged a few words, though most of the conversation flew past him. He was angry with himself for slipping back to his ways but what choice did he have? If he wouldn't they would find out everything and most likely start hating him too. _Maybe they already did_ , he thought as he winced internally.

It made him feel sick looking at Ziva and McGee smiling with the only person who truly managed to terrify him. Then Father clasped his shoulder and squeezed with force. Tony barely managed to stop flinching at the pain ( _that was going to leave some impressive bruises_ ) but his mask cracked for a fraction of a second. Tony didn't know whether he was relieved or desperately disappointed when no one noticed.

Then Ziva and McSmug left to escort Prince Sayif to… Somewhere. Tony was having trouble thinking straight. He was brought back to the present as the hand on his shoulder tightened even more.

"Is that the Prince Sayif?" His Father whispered in his ear. Tony looked over his shoulder and nodded. The grip didn't loosen in the slightest. "What is he doing here?"

The younger man remained silent. Senior shook him slightly and hissed " _Answer me boy!_ "

"He was a target of an assassination attempt."

Tony cursed at himself inside of his head. A few angry words from the man and his mouth escaped from his usually iron control. He really was pathetic.

"What happened?" Senior continued his probing with a low voice.

"I- I can't talk about it!" the agent replied with an urgent, hushed tone. He could feel his anxiety levels going up a bit more. This was classified information, he couldn't say anything, so what if he was scared! Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. DiNozzo's do _not_ display signs of weakness.

Father was not pleased with his response. He moved so that they were face to face and took a tight grip from both of his shoulders, staring straight into his eyes. If someone was watching from afar, it looked like they were sharing a nice father-son moment. Still keeping up his charming fake-smile, Senior said with a menacing voice, "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"Car bomb."

Tony would have given himself the mother of all headslaps but it might look weird or even suspicious and right now he prefered going on unnoticed. He closed his eyes, disappointed in himself. The team, especially Gibbs, would never respect or trust him again if they found out just how weak and messed up he really was. He opened his eyes to see his father still staring at him with one raised eyebrow. Even though his expression was friendly enough, Tony could see the disgust and anger hidden in the depths of his cold eyes. The SFA sighed and turned his gaze towards his feet, deflated and defeated.

"Has his father been told?" The older man questioned.

"Yes, he's flying in from Riyadh," he said.

After a small silence he continued with a hint of desperation creeping into his voice, "Look, I have to get Sayif to the Adams House hotel."

He glanced at Father, who was nodding to himself.

"Alright, dismissed," he stated absentmindedly, released his hold and begun to stroll towards the elevator. Tony almost failed at blocking the relieved sigh.

 

_NCISNCIS_

 

The rest of the day was a recurrent struggle for Tony to keep his mind in the game. He was still unnerved and jumpy after seeing Father again and it was getting increasingly harder to hide it the more tired he got. So when Sayif insisted that Ziva would be the agent accompanying him after fighting with his brother, Tony felt relieved. He could go home, order some pizza and maybe take a beer, try to relax and block this day out of his memory. Perhaps watch something out of his vast collection of movies. It would give him some much needed time to get up his game and rebuild his walls the way they were. All he wanted was some peace and quiet.

So of course life wanted to screw him over once more. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry when he found Father waiting for him in his living room. He drew his hand down his face and smiled sarcastically to hide the pain Father's disapproving gaze still brought after all these years. But he was used to hiding his real feelings by now.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you?"

Anger took over his Father's unimpressed expression as he stood up from the sleek black designer couch he'd been sitting on. He walked up to him and Tony had to repress his urge to step back. Senior looked at him with an angry sneer before backhanding him in the cheek. The force of the slap might've made him loose his balance if he hadn't known it was bound to happen.

"Don't look at me in the eyes like you'd be an _equal_ ," He spitted out, contempt evident in his voice.

Automatically his eyes snapped to the floor, disgusted how quickly he did whatever Father demanded. He thought he had gotten over that, that Father wouldn't affect him the same way anymore, that he was stronger now. Clearly he'd been wrong. Nothing had changed. He was still the same screw up he was back then.

"So," Senior began coldly as he started to circle around him, "you think just because you managed to bullshit your way into being a federal agent that makes you a somebody?"

Tony stayed quiet, gazing at the floor intently.

His Father gave a loud huff. "Well let me tell you something then. I have to admit, a part of me hoped you would have changed, that I could finally have a son I could be _proud of,_ but surprise surprise, you disappointed me once again. You're a _nobody_ , a useless coward hiding behind his walls. _A worthless liar_. I guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, in fact I have no idea why I did in the first place! After all, all you do is disappoint me! And your team? You think they _care_? Let me break it down to you: _they don't_. It's obvious even to me! I guess they see your inadequacy even if you've mostly fooled them into thinking you're worth keeping around. All they do is tolerate you because they have to, because they are _stuck_ with you! _You're just a huge waste of time and a waste of space!_ "

With that, Senior took up a baseball bat he'd apparently brought with him and swung it towards his son's torso with all his might. Tony saw it coming but merely tensed up to minimize the injuries. He knew from experience it would only get worse if he'd try to avoid it and that he didn't have the guts to face Father in a fight despite being a skilled fighter - even standing his ground against Gibbs or Ziva on a good day.

He grunted as the bat hit him in the chest and knocked the air out of his lungs. Gasping for air, he got down on his knees. This time the blow made contact with his back, the force pushing him to the ground. He curled up and lifted his hands to protect his head as Senior moved on to kicking him in the ribs. Giving a one last kick, the older man stood up panting slightly from exertion and straightened his suit and tie. Then he spat on him. "Mark my words: it's just a matter of time until you'll screw this NCIS-thing up too. Just wait and see." And then he left, leaving the door open in his wake.

Once Tony heard the footsteps retreating and fading away he let out a small moan. Damn, his ribs were killing him. He took a few deep breaths, wincing at the pain it caused. There might be a few cracked ribs but fortunately none of them seemed broken. _Small mercies huh_.

Suddenly moisture gathered unbidden in his eyes. Angry at himself, at Father, at the world, he slammed his fist on the floor with a satisfying thump. He would not start crying like a little kid. He deserved what happened since deep down, he knew Father was right. About him, hell about everything.

He blinked away the unshed tears and slowly made his way up. Carefully, so as to not aggravate his ribs, he walked to the door and closed it. Then he curled up in his bed under blankets and tried to convince himself that he didn't care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yey I'm back! First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has commented!! And thank you to all of you who pressed the kudos button! I was completely blown away at the amount of people interested in this :O I know it's not that much compared to some other stories but it is much to me! :)
> 
> Anyway, I decided to continue this story (I appear to be a master at stating the obvious) and I will finish it too. I just want to say here that my updates will probably be quite irregular, but they are coming at their own pace! I'd also like to say that I've taken some dialogue from the actual episode (as I did in the first chapter too, and will do in the next one as well) since I want the plot to follow the episode's at least a little, not sure why. :P I'm also incredibly nervous that I'll disappoint you haha *grabs Tony and hides behind him*

Tony woke up with a gasp. Sweat was running down his back and his hands were minutely trembling. He must've fallen asleep at some point.

"Dammit…" he muttered as he ran both of his hands through his hair slowly in an attempt to calm himself without pulling the ribs excessively. He glanced at his watch. 3:02 AM. "Isn't that just great.." he sighed.

Deciding sleeping was no longer an option he gingerly stood up from the bed. His whole torso was sore and his ribs pulsated with pain. There was also a faint burning sensation on his left cheek most likely due to the back of Father's hand getting closely acquainted with his face.

He grabbed his emergency makeup kit under the secret bottom of one of his drawers and shuffled into the bathroom. It was quite embarrassing that he had an emergency makeup kit, and even more so that he needed it more often than he was willing to admit. Well, not that often nowadays if he compared it to the time before Father disowned him, sent him away and completely washed his hands out of him.

Which got him thinking about his nightmare. _Or more like memories_. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to push those unhappy, lonely times back to the back of his mind Tony proceeded into opening his medicine cabinet and took out some gauze and tape.

Hissing, he lifted his shirt up and away. The sight that he met in the mirror made him grimace. He looked like crap. His ordinarily carefully styled hair was sticking up into every direction, his skin was pale and clammy, highlighting the black bags under his green eyes and the black and purple mess on his left cheek and littering all around his abdomen.

Once again he sighed and then got to work. He lifted his arms and slowly began to wrap the gauze around his torso in hopes of steadying the ribs and offering some protection. He then used the tape to fasten the gauze so it wouldn't fall off. Then Tony turned his attention to the makeup. He had his own special mix which blended perfectly with his skin.

He carefully applied it to his slightly swollen cheek before moving on to rub some to the rest of his face, in order to prevent any smudges or gaps that might give away his secret weapon. Satisfied with his handiwork, he nodded, digged up his most expensive suit, got dressed and combed his hair. Then he schooled his features into a neutral expression, closed his eyes and started to slowly patch together his mask.

He opened his eyes and gave a wicked smile to the mirror. Gone was the exhausted man who'd gotten crap shoveled down his neck all his life, beaten and depressed, and in his stead was A Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, the womanizer frat-boy who could charm just about anyone and just wanted to have fun. Yep, they wouldn't notice a thing. No one ever did.

_NCISNCIS_

He arrived at work earlier than usual, even before Gibbs. So he sat in his chair and finished up some paperwork, rigged Probie's chair so that it would fall apart once sufficient amount of weight was laid upon it and waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Gibbs came in a little before 7:00 sipping that potentially poisonous liquid he claimed to be coffee.

"Morning boss!" Tony exclaimed cheerfully, earning a glare and a grunt as a response. _So far so good._

The rest of the morning they had nothing special going on so Tony proceeded into playing Tetris on his computer, shooting little paperballs at Ziva, calling McProbster every nickname he could come up with and generally kept up the goofball act, trying to annoy the hell out of everyone. This way when he got kicked out it would be easier if everyone already disliked him. He had let down some of his guards and the team had become far too close for comfort. He cared too much, perhaps even _they_ cared too much which would be devastating if they ever found out the truth.

So Tony smiled his trademark wide grin, wiggled his eyebrows when warranted, earned a few headslaps from Gibbs and tried to avoid any sudden movements or breathing in too deeply while keeping his body language as smooth and natural as possible.

All went according to plan until McGoo, fed up with his antics answered his teasing with a grumpy "Sure, _Junior_.", almost making Tony falter in his retort. Only years of practise prevented him from reacting, since Father was the only one who ever called him that.

And then came the call.

Gibbs had joined Vance in MTAC but returned hastily with the usual bark to "grab their gears". Apparently the NSA's international monitoring software, Echelon, had picked up "chatter" regarding the assassination attempt which had been traced back to the guest business center of the Adams House hotel, the hotel where Prince Sayif was staying. Gibbs' driving was, well, very _Gibbs_ and so it didn't take long until the team arrived outside the hotel.

"DiNozzo Ziva, check the business center, McGee with me to Sayif's suites!" he shouted rapidly.

They all nodded and started running towards their destination. Tony kept his left arm as near his torso for support as he could without making Ziva suspicious. Getting close to the business center, they slowed down and drew their weapons. They continued to carefully approach, checking cubicles one by one until only one remained. Tony glanced at Ziva who nodded. They creeped up, with Ziva watching his six. Reaching the last cubicle, Tony took aim, stepped forward and announced himself.

"Federal Agent, hands in the air!"

The man in the cubicle turned and once again Tony was brought face to face with his Father.

"Junior, what's the matter with you? Put that thing down, someone could get hurt!" Senior scolded with a displeased frown creasing his forehead.

_NCISNCIS_

In the Interrogation Room, Senior was checking out his appearance from the mirror and straightening his jacket.

"Maybe Tony didn't have a mother, maybe he was _cloned_." Abby shared her conspiracy theory with Ducky in the Observation Room.

"There certainly is a strong familial resemblance…"

At that moment Gibbs entered the Interrogation Room. "Hi. Jethro Gibbs," he said and offered a hand at Dinozzo Senior who shook it.

"Oh, Agent Gibbs," Senior answered with a pleasant smile.

As soon as their hands touched, Gibbs could feel in his gut that something was off.

"Well, you finally get to meet the _real_ Tony DiNozzo," he said while raising both of his eyebrows as if sharing a secret.

Gibbs didn't like him. There was something about him that was _slimy,_ for the lack of a better word, and his attempt at humor made the agent feel uncomfortable. Senior was like a steak that had been forgotten on the table for a night: it looked good on the outside but it didn't smell right. Nevertheless, he _was_ Tony's father and Gibbs was quite sure Tony would've wanted a closer relationship with him while growing up. Despite of his instant dislike of the man, Gibbs didn't want to ruin Tony's chances of building a real connection with the man. So he chuckled shortly at Senior's joke. He couldn't quite hide the spiky edge in his tone when he answered, "Didn't expect it was going to be under these circumstances."

Senior's face morphed incredibly sour for a moment but soon it was wiped away by a charming smile. Yep, Gibbs really didn't like this man. So he walked to the other side of the desk, pulled the chair back and smiled as politely as he could to the other man. "Have a seat, you got some explaining to do."

Senior raised his eyebrows again before beginning to walk towards the chair while talking and twirling his hand in the air, "Well, uh, I was just emailing some of my business associates, I'm developing a resort at St. Barts." He came to a halt next to the chair putting a hand in his pocket while Gibbs sat down. " _Junior_ wouldn't explain but, uh, what warranted guns being pointed at my face and being brought down here for questioning?" He was starting to look slightly annoyed.

_Good_ , Gibbs thought savagely when a sudden feeling of protectiveness overcame him. This man hadn't even bothered to show up when _his only son_ was dying of the damn plague! None of this showed through his carefully neutral expression though and again he had to remind himself to keep things friendly for Tony.

"You used certain keywords that were picked up on a global surveillance network," he answered instead.

"Wow," Senior said, "that stuff really exists?" Then he gave another friendly smile, making Gibbs' gut churn faintly.

"I thought that was only in spie movies. How does it work?" Senior questioned excitedly.

Now it was Gibbs' turn to smile. "It's classified."

"So uh, this is where you bring the bad guys for the third-degree?"

Gibbs almost sighed. Then he took a pen out of his jacket and clicked it open. "You mentioned Prince Omar and assassination in your emails, why?" He asked, done playing games.

Senior lifted his hands on his sides as a gesture of surrender. "I confess. I'm a bit of an opportunist, uh," he finally sat down on his chair, "money is tight these days and I'm missing a key piece of financing so I thought that fate had interceded when I heard that Al's gonna be in town," he said with a goodhearted smile.

Had it been someone else, they would've smiled kindly and thanked the other man for his time. But Gibbs wasn't fooled that easily. Oh he believed the opportunist-part but right now his gut was sending him all kinds of warning signals while looking at that smile. So he raised his eyebrows. " _Al?_ "

"Ah, that's what Prince Omar's, _Al's_ , friends call him," Senior chuckled. "So I was notifying some of my investors that _Al_ was gonna be in town because of said assassination attempt on his son."

"Why were you at the Adams House?"

"Oh, I'm staying there. It's my favorite in Washington. Donald, the concierge, he's a _miracle_ , he can get you anything you want! Theater tickets, restaurant reservations… Have you ever been to the roof-top grill?"

Gibbs was unimpressed. He could try to change the subject all he wanted, Gibbs had time. And people said he lacked patience.

"No," the agent deadpanned.

"Oooh, they got the best rib-eye in town!" Senior exclaimed enthusiastically.

In the Observation Ducky said almost as if speaking to himself, "He's right, they are delicious..."

_NCISNCIS_

Tony was waiting outside the Interrogation, leaning on the wall. This was starting to turn into one of the worst weeks of his life. He banged his head against the wall with a small thud. What would he do? Everyone would be pissed at him, Gibbs and the team for ratting out their intel since Gibbs _would_ find out, and Father… Well to be fair Father was always angry at him. That didn't make him feel any better though. Tony didn't know how long he could keep all the balls in the air when more were constantly thrown into the mix.

The drive back to NCIS had been spent in silence so thick Tony had felt as if he was suffocating. And now when they let Father go he was going to have to pay for their unexpected encounter.

Gibbs stepped out into the hallway, pulling Tony away from his musings. The older agent frowned slightly and Tony wondered how much of his exhaustion showed through. He'd slept only a few hours last night and had barely eaten anything today. Not that he was hungry, more like a bit nauseous. He straightened slightly, an unreadable expression planted on its place.

"You keep your father clear of Omar's family," Gibbs said quietly.

"Yes boss," Tony replied without making eye contact. He knew he had screwed up big time. Actually he was a little surprised Gibbs didn't threaten to take his badge there and then.

"Make sure he gets the message," Gibbs muttered as he walked towards the Observation.

"Got it," Tony confirmed.

He watched him disappear and fought down a panic attack. Like he could control Father in any way! He would do as he pleased no matter what Tony wanted. Actually he would probably do the exact _opposite_ of what Tony wanted. But it's not like he could tell that to Gibbs. _God everyone's gonna hate me when this is over._

He buried his face into his hands for a short moment, bracing himself for getting Father out of Interrogation. He was in for a world of hurt, that's for sure.

_NCISNCIS_

He'd told McGee that he'd take Father away to some other hotel and the younger agent bobbed his head absentmindedly with a "Yeah, see you tomorrow Tony," which Tony took as dismissal and grabbed his bag.

His Father waved cheerfully to Tim, earning a quick smile from said agent.

The trip was again spent in stifling quietness and Tony could feel the anger and loathing spreading through the car. Once they got inside Tony's apartment Senior closed the door and fixed Tony into an icy glare that could challenge even that of Gibbs'.

"Why do you _always_ have to screw everything up," Senior said with a low voice.

Tony bit his lower lip on the inside and focused his gaze on the wall behind Father. It was easier this way than seeing the genuine disappointment and hatred in Father's eyes. _Here we go…_

The older man walked to him. "Give me your hand," he commanded.

The younger man hesitantly turned his gaze to meet his eyes. "Look, I don't know what brought you here and honestly I don't even care, but you need to stay away of Prince Omar's family," he said wearily.

Father stared at him incredulously, "Are _you_ telling _me_ what to do?"

"Trust me, you don't want Gibbs on your ass. He's a freaking bloodhound," Tony smiled weakly and continued, "If it's money you're after, fine, I'll give you some as long as you leave town."

The look Father gave him was murderous. "Are you threatening me boy?"

"I'm not. But Gibbs might if you don't steer clear of them," he answered with a confidence he didn't feel.

Suddenly Senior grabbed his left wrist forcefully with one hand while the other one took a hold of his fingers. And then he pushed up until a sickening _crunch_ could be heard. Tony sucked in air rapidly and all he could think of was _PAIN PAIN PAIN!_ Ironically, the sudden deep breath made his ribs pulse in the same painful rhythm as his wrist did.

After a moment of panting he managed to ride out the worst. As he opened his eyes ( _when had he closed them?_ ) he realised he was kneeling on the floor with Father looming above him, still gripping his hand tightly.

Senior's lips twisted down in repulsion. "Pathetic…" he muttered as he let go.

Tony instantly drew his hand to his torso, still trying to calm his breathing so at least his ribs wouldn't hurt that much. Then Father planted his shoe on his back and _pushed_ until he was lying face to the floor. The pressure was released but Tony knew better than to get back up. A wave of self-loathing engulfed him because it was so evident how damn _whipped_ he was, how desperate to please Father. Spineless. Soon, a _thump_ could be heard, but this time the pain was located in his right knee. It caught him off guard, nearly making him scream, but he grinded his teeth together and only a grunt escaped.

"I wish you would have never been born. I wish you would have died instead of your mother."

Tony let those words linger in the air and shut his eyes tightly.

"I _hate_ you." The coldness of Father's voice chilled him to the bone but he refused to shiver.

He heard footsteps retreating, door opening and slamming shut. Tony laid there a few minutes.

"I hate you too," he whispered to the floor shakily. Then he laughed mirthlessly, "God I'm a mess..."

He didn't open his eyes until he was sure the threat of tears was gone.

_NCISNCIS_

He didn't sleep at all during the night. Instead, he gingerly examined his new injuries while minding the old ones. The wrist was definitely broken but Tony was confident he had managed to set it in a correct position. He had wrapped an emergency sling for it out of his suit jacket until he could get up to the bathroom and get some beige gauze on it, which nicely matched his skin tone. Then he'd only need to make sure none of it showed under his sleeve at work tomorrow.

This was okay because now he could work on automatic. He could focus on trying to fix himself physically since he doubted it was even possible mentally, plus the physical pain was a nice distraction. The worst scars Father had ever given him were not visible ones, and he carried them wherever he went.

With his wrist taken care of Tony switched his attention on his right knee. It was a bit of a hustle to wiggle out of his pants with a busted wrist, ribs and knee but after some time he managed it. By then he was shaking and sweating, scolding himself for not being able to handle a little pain like a grown man.

Tony stared intently at his right knee. It was somewhat swollen and slowly turning purple but it didn't seem broken. Didn't feel broken either. He poked it a couple of times and concluded it was sprained or something like that. Nothing that warranted a visit to a hospital. He repressed a shudder. Nope, he was just fine.

He used his good arm and the sofa to get up from the cool floor. Tony then tried to put some weight on his bad leg, just to see if it would hold. And it did. But _damn_ it hurt. So he slowly started limping towards the bathroom. Once inside, he nearly collapsed on the toilet, trying to catch his breath with his ribs, wrist and knee screaming at him.

He was exhausted by the time he was wrapped up, gotten dressed, checked and reapplied some of the makeup foundation and ready to go.

_NCISNCIS_

Once he arrived at work, he was being greeted by a wonderful coffee smell, not the black ooze Gibbs drank. He forced himself to walk normally from the elevator and ignore the stabs of pain radiating from his leg. To his joy, McGee was just placing a hot cup of coffee on his desk along with a donut since he had apparently gotten breakfast for all.

Father's words echoed through his mind. _All they do is tolerate you because they have to, because they are_ stuck _with you!_ He did his best to ignore them as he walked cheerfully towards his desk. Oh the actor the world had lost in him!

"Gooood morning Ze-eva, McCoffeeBringer!" he said happily and sat on his chair. Getting his weight of the bad leg was blissful. Then he opened the lid off the papermug and took a peek inside. Looked good. He took a sip. Just like he preferred it if he had to drink coffee.

He gave an exaggerated groan as he savoured the taste of hazelnut-creamer. "McSaint, you are heaven sent, I swear no more pranks!"

McGee huffed, amused, "Wanna bet?"

Ziva's eyes twinkled with humor as she leaned forward in her chair. She then put a finger on her lips in fake ponderance. "I'll say… One week."

"I was thinking more like three days," Tim said.

Tony placed his good hand on his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me!" He declared. "I can contain myself for at least two weeks!" Then he wiggled his eyebrows for good measure.

This made McGee laugh and Ziva smile. The younger man got up and walked next to Tony, offering his hand. "Five bucks?"

Tony took his hand. "Oh, you're on!"

He leaned back in his chair and winked at Ziva, "Nothing beats easy money."

She just rolled her eyes, still smiling at his antics.

Gibbs strolled in with his omnipresent cup of "coffee". "Five bucks you're gonna get to work before I reach my desk."

"Come on boss, you're no fun!" Tony whined.

Gibbs almost smiled at that but he had a reputation to hold. So he merely raised his eyebrow and watched as the agents quickly started opening files on their computers and making calls. A quick smile flashed through his features. Then he focused on Tony. Behind the smile he seemed extremely tired. Gibbs guessed this whole thing with his father was taking a toll on him. Maybe he should go a bit softer on him today, but on the other hand Tony hated being treated with kid-gloves. He knew from experience that when relationships were strained it sucked a lot of energy out of ya. _Tony'd be fine, they had his six_ , he tried to reassure himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I'm a bit afraid I've crossed the line between "believable" and "dude, you're kidding me, right?" but this was the best I could do. :/ I hope you guys (or at least some of you) still enjoy it though! I'm also pretty certain that next chapter will be the last one, since I don't really know how to continue. I will finish it as quickly as I can but I have a few exams coming up that I really need to start preparing for (so best case scenario: in the end of this week, worst case scenario: some time next month?). It will be a good thing for me to take a break from writing after next chapter anyway, I've been stressing over this quite a lot which has led into me being very anxious and having trouble sleeping. But I promised to finish so finish I shall!
> 
> Oh well, here goes nothing!

In the afternoon it was time to switch the security detail on Prince Sayif.

 

Tony had been preparing himself all day for the possibility of another case or being the one stuck with Sayif. In his condition, he’d be nothing but a liability so he might need to bullshit his way out of this. It would have been easiest if he could’ve just started with a lie and never showed up at work but he was worried Gibbs would figure out something was definitely not right. The ex-marine was already suspicious - Tony had caught the older man glancing at him from the corner of his eye every now and again.

 

The problem was, he still wasn’t sure what to say. It had to be something that was believable but nothing one wanted more information. Maybe he’d say he ate some bad pizza yesterday and had diarrhea. No one wanted to know more about diarrhea right? At least his gauzes were supporting the injuries nicely, enough so that he could push the pain to the back of his mind and act normally.

 

“Prince Sayif is a chauvinistic, royal pain in the tush,” Ziva huffed as they walked to the hotel. 

 

“If he wants me to be one of the agents accompanying him  _ again _ , you may have to hire someone to protect him from me,” she added sourly.

 

McGee glanced at her apologetically. “Well, he's not used to anyone saying 'no' to him.”

 

Ziva’s glare prevented the younger agent from adding anything else.

 

They reached the suite and were almost at the door when the elevator dinged. DiNozzo Senior and Prince Omar stepped outside of it, chatting like old friends.

 

"I have a little family matter to attend to, but then we should talk," they heard Prince Omar say. 

 

Senior merely smiled at him and returned to the elevator. 

 

“I told you to handle it,” Gibbs hissed at Tony, not pleased at all of seeing the slick man again.

 

Tony had pressed his lips together into so thin a line that one could barely see them. “I spoke to him,” he said and added a small lie in an attempt to soothe the tension, “I think he’s losing his hearing.”

 

The SFA could see how frustrated his boss was. His heart rate began to pick up as he realised he’d screwed up again. He prepared himself for what was coming so that even if he’d get fired he could try to leave with his dignity intact. 

 

“Just keep him the hell out of here,” Gibbs snarled.

 

Tony hid his surprise with expertise and nodded. “I won’t let him out of my sight.”  _ I won’t let you down again boss. _

 

With that, he left to go after Father.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


Tony found Father in the first place he checked - the hotel bar.  _ Some things never change. _

 

Senior looked up and took a sip of his already almost empty glass of whisky. “You again…”

 

“Look,  _ Dad _ ,” he offered with a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes as Senior’s face darkened, “I have to take you back to NCIS. Told you to stay away from Prince Omar.”

 

Father stared at him without saying anything and for a fleeting moment Tony thought he was going to start beating him here in public. His heart was pounding, palms sweaty and his mouth felt dry. Then the look on Father’s face changed back to his usual charming smile even when his words were uttered with an undertone of anger, “Fine, but we are going to have a small  _ chat _ later. In private.”

 

Tony nodded numbly. It had been inevitable anyway. And he deserved a punishment.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


Apparently the bomb had been planted by the driver, Walid Abbas, who had also been killed in the explosion. Ziva and McGee were bouncing ideas on the motive behind the deed that costed the driver his life while Tony was slowly filling paperwork by typing on one finger. He couldn’t really use his busted hand so he took it to the extreme and only used his forefinger, making McGeek exclaim in exasperation, “You’re actually starting to regress Tony!”

 

Not having the energy to come up with a witty retort, Tony merely stuck out his tongue and returned to typing. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the small screen as the letters seemed to jump around or blur into each other.

 

Father picked this moment to arrive with Abby on his arm and a dazzling smile on his lips. 

 

“Whoever hires the women around here deserves a bonus! They’re not only beautiful, but they’re bright,” Senior informed the room and winked at Abby, making her blush.

 

“Oh, stop it!” Abby smiled and playfully slapped his arm. 

 

This made Tony feel even worse. Couldn’t they see behind the smiles and kind words? Couldn’t they see how much this hurt him? He was conflicted: a small part of him wanted to shake them and make them see the truth while the other part was scared shitless they’d find out.

 

“This the end of the tour?” Senior asked friendly.

 

Abby chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “Hmm… I think I showed him everything,” she added, looking at Tony.

 

That’s when Gibbs walked in the room. “I’ll show him around. We’ll start with the armory.”

 

They both left the squadroom and a stunned Tony behind them.  _ This can’t be good. _

 

"I'm flashing back," he said almost to himself, "Boarding school. Headmaster wants to talk to my dad."

 

As Ziva and McGee shot some sympathetic glances in his general direction, Tony brought his focus back to his computer. He felt dizzy and nauseous, bringing up and then fighting to keep the composed mask on his features.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


Gibbs ushered Senior into the conference room. 

 

“This doesn’t look like the armory to me,” the man quipped with a small grin.

 

Gibbs tapped the back of a chair. “Sit,” he said while moving around to the other side of the table and sitting down.

 

Senior took the chair Gibbs had tapped, humming to himself briefly. “When you offered to take me on a tour, I suspected you had an ulterior motive. What’s on your mind?”

 

Gibbs didn’t respond to his smile. He’d noticed Tony paling slightly when his father stepped out of the elevator with the Prince. “Your son.”

 

Senior sighed and covered the side on his face with his hand for a moment. “What has Junior done now?”

 

The disappointment flashing through Senior’s eyes at the mention of Tony almost made Gibbs jump up and punch him in those perfect white teeth. But he didn’t. He had to keep things civil for Tony’s sake. So he kept the neutral expression and continued, “Tony likes to hide behind the face of a clown. But he’s the best young agent I’ve ever worked with.”

 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Even though his tone was friendly, his smile didn’t seem to completely reach his eyes.

 

“When’s the last time you talked to him? I mean, really talked to him?”

 

Senior shrugged. “We keep in touch.”

 

"Four years ago, your son came very close to dying from pneumonic plague."

 

Senior’s face was unreadable, reminding Gibbs of how Tony sometimes looked.

 

“And I expected to see you. You didn't show then. Why are you here, now?” he continued.

 

Senior narrowed his eyes before replying, “He never told me he was sick.”

 

“Oh, so you don’t keep in touch?” Gibbs questioned dryly. 

 

Anger flashed flitted through Senior’s eyes at the accusation. "I should tell you to piss off. But I do know Junior thinks the world of you, so I'll keep this civil." He paused for a moment, then continued, "Are we finished?"

 

With no response from Gibbs, Senior rose out of his seat and left the agent alone in the room.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


Back down at the squadroom, Senior walked to Tony’s desk and leaned against it.

 

“Hey, Junior, I’m getting quite tired. You mind giving your old man a ride to the airport? I think it’s time for me to go home and let you get back to your work,” he said not unkindly.

 

Tony nearly gulped visibly before matching Father with a fake smile of his own. “Sure, Dad, it was nice for you to visit.”

 

Ziva and McGee shared a smile. 

 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. DiNozzo,” McGee said, ever so polite.

 

“Ah, the same to you Tim! Is it okay if I call you Tim?” Senior chuckled. “And my lovely Ziva, I have to say you look incredible with your hair down, just like I knew you would.”

 

Ziva continued smiling, obviously pleased. “Good bye, Mr. DiNozzo.”

 

There was a twinge of pain that had nothing to do with Tony’s injuries. No, seeing the team so friendly with Father was twisting his guts into a knot. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever been so nice towards  _ him _ . But on the other hand they didn’t really have any reason to be.

 

Resigned to his fate, he followed Father to the elevator and waved his goodbyes. At least Father was leaving and there was only one more day left until they had the weekend off which should give him sufficient time to get a grip of himself.

 

Once they reached the elevator, Father snarled in a low voice, alcohol faintly smelling in his breath, “Your place first, I can show myself out. I don’t want to be seen in public with the likes of you.”

 

_ Probably using the mouthwash again to hide the stench _ , Tony thought.

 

The younger man hummed noncommittally. Besides, they would have to take a taxi, there was no way Tony could drive with the condition of his wrist and knee.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


Senior kept up a light banter with the driver during the ride as Tony remained mostly silent. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Tony’s building, from where they walked briskly inside, the agents knee sending signals of pain on every step.

 

Tony unlocked the door, held it open for Father to step in and then shut it after himself. The older man strolled a few steps forward with his hands in his pockets, passing the sofa table and reaching the black couch. Then he started speaking calmly.

 

“You know, you are an ever-present thorn in my side but I never thought you were quite as stupid.”

 

He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. “Maybe you’re just looking for new ways to disappoint me, God knows how hard that must be. But you  _ do not _ give commands to me,  _ you do not _ talk back to me unless I so demand! Have you completely forgotten your place?!”

 

He turned around, disgust and rage written all around his face.

 

Oddly enough, Tony didn’t really feel anything. It was as if he was in a dream, or maybe it was due to the bone-deep fatigue he felt for his disregard of food or sleep during Father’s stay. So he did one of the dumbest things in his life: ignored the content of the words and made it all into a joke, a deflection tactic he often used at work.

 

“I’m pretty sure this  _ is _ my place, Alzheimer much?”

 

_ Oops. _ Well he had never been accused of having too strong self-preservation instincts. 

 

Father balled his hands into fists as he stepped closer, shaking with fury. “ _ Excuse me? _ ”

 

Too tired to control his mouth he just let it run.  _ Oh well _ . It had been fun as long as it lasted.

 

“Come on, you know this! Dementia? No? Should I dumb it down more? Problems with me-”

 

His babbling was interrupted as Father’s hands twisted themselves around his throat and  _ squeezed _ .

 

It took Tony a while to realize what was happening. He started gasping for air and tried pulling the hands of his neck. Already weakened by his weariness, Father pushed him down on his back after a moment of wrestling. Senior’s face was red and he was out of breath as he continued squeezing as hard as he could. Black smudges were dancing in Tony’s vision as he started to actually panic. So he lashed out with his good leg, hearing a cry of pain as Father’s face swam in and out of focus. The last thing he felt was being lifted up and then quickly brought back down. After that it was all black.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


There was an annoyingly loud sound. Tony moaned. Jeez, his head hurt, what had he been drinking? It felt like someone was trying to carve their way out of his skull with a pickaxe. Blearily he forced sticky eyelids apart only to groan as light exacerbated his headache. He coughed, and man what was up with his throat? Too exhausted to think he closed his eyes with a deep sigh as the irritating ringing stopped. Only to start again after a few seconds.

 

_ Phone _ . His brains provided him.  _ Probably Boss. _

 

Again he pried open his eyes, this time more cautiously, as he started searching the offending piece of technology which had brought him back from his slumber. He then froze for a moment as yesterday’s (at least he assumed it was yesterday) events played through his mind again.  _ Oh crap _ . And then he remembered he was supposed to work today.  _ Double crap _ .

 

He got to a sitting position with haste, making the world spin and his head almost explode. He then  returned to frantically searching his phone until finally he pulled it out of his suit pocket, victorious.

 

It was McGee. Tony flipped open the phone in order to answer.

 

“Hey McNosy, what’s up?” he rasped. Wow his voice sounded bad. Guess near death by strangulation did that to you.

 

“Tony where the hell are you?” was the rushed reply followed by a hesitantly concerned, “You okay?”

 

He was quiet for a moment as he took in his surroundings. Apparently the sofa table had been kicked down at some point during the incident, with the lamp from the top now in pieces on the carpet. Probably some blood had seeped into the carpet as well, judging by the throbbing of his head. Something had also flown against his TV (possibly a remote?), causing the screen to crack from the upper right corner. Fortunately it hadn’t dropped down since that would have made hell of a racket. 

 

Okay, so he had two choices: A) Go to work and pretend everything was fine and clean up afterwards or B) Call in sick and clean now. Although option B held not a small amount of temptation, Tony just knew that Abby would come by, even if he told her not to, with black colored chicken soup or something and Tony seriously doubted he’d manage to clean everything  _ and _ be presentable by the time she’d arrive. Plus there was no way he could change the TV in time. 

 

So he decided to go with option A. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk his team though - if a call came, he’d just stay at HQ going through some paperwork and old, unsolved cases saying that he had caught the cold. Yeah, that could work.

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m peachy. I must have slept through the alarm, don’t worry Probster I’ll be there soon. Has Gibbs noticed yet?” he enquired nonchalantly, feeling anything but. 

 

“I don’t think so, he’s been up in MTAC the whole morning with the director. Are you sure you’re fine? You sound a bit... Hoarse.”

 

Tony waved his hand dismissively, forgetting that McGee couldn’t see him. Also forgetting the broken wrist, making him grimace. “Yeah, I think I’m just coming down with something. Good thing we have a free weekend coming up right?”

 

He got up on unsteady feet and started to clumsily head towards the bathroom. There was a small pool of blood soaked into the carpet where his head had been but he didn’t have time for that now.

 

“Yeah I guess…”

 

“Look McKnight, hold the fort for me for a while longer, see you soon.” He pressed the red button before McGee had a chance to reply.

 

Anxiousness churned in his stomach in chorus with nausea so strong he nearly had to stop to toss his cookies. He self-diagnosed himself with most likely a mild concussion. And, well, a sore throat but that was a given. Doing his best not to faint, Tony hastily washed the mostly dried blood out of his hair over the sink. Then he as gently as he could wiped it with a towel. As he pressed slightly on the bump in the back of his head he nearly lost the battle with consciousness. Good thing his shirt underneath the suit was dark in color, so that any possible blood spatter wouldn’t be noticeable.

 

Luckily he hadn’t bothered to clean up his makeup kit so that he didn’t have to go looking for it. As fast as he could he hid the slowly darkening handprints from around his neck. Then he grabbed a new, clean suit jacket while calling a taxi.

  
  


_ NCISNCIS _

  
  


It had been a while since Tony had hanged up on him. Gibbs was still upstairs and Ziva seemed engrossed by something on her computer screen. Tim sighed, not being able to concentrate. He looked around to see if anyone was within hearing distance but it seemed as if everyone who was on call were out chasing a lead or something. Worried, he turned to Ziva.

 

“Do you think he’s okay?”

 

Ziva frowned minutely. “He has seemed a bit... Distracted recently.”

 

McGee pursed his lips. “Yeah, I guess his dad just turning up here was bit of a surprise.”

 

Their discussion was cut short as Tony came out of the elevator, half-running. 

 

“Am I busted?” he whispered hoarsely as he dropped his backpack next to his desk. McGee’s concern hitched up a notch as he noted how pale and rumpled Tony looked. Even his hair was sticking up in random directions. He tried to reassure himself by thinking that Tony  _ had _ said he felt a bit under the weather.

 

Ziva’s frown deepened. “No, Gibbs is still upstairs. What happened to you? You look like you have been run over by a can.”

 

Tony blinked. It took him a moment but then he laughed and leaned against his desk, gripping it with one hand. “ _ Car _ Zeeva, not  _ can _ .”

 

“That does make more sense,” she replied, scrutinizing him intently.

 

That’s when Gibbs came down the stairs, unnoticed by them all. He walked briskly from behind Tony and slapped him in the back of his head casually as he passed the younger agent. 

 

What came next caused all the other agents to freeze in shock.

 

Tony gave a small utterance of pain as his face drained white and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. And then he fell forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

 

Gibbs was the first one to recover from his stupor as he looked at his hand and noticed a small speck of blood in the middle of his palm. Then he was by Tony’s side quicker than Abby could say “Caf-Pow”.

 

Gibbs moved his hand through Tony’s hair with great tenderness until he located a big bump, the likely source of the tiny fleck of blood. In the meanwhile Ziva and McGee had gotten next to their boss, but without crowding the space right by Tony’s side. Gently, Gibbs turned his SFA until he was laying on his back.

 

“What the hell just happened?” McGee whispered, quite pale himself.

 

Tony moaned and his eyelids fluttered. Gibbs patted his cheek lightly. “Tony? Can you open your eyes?”

 

“Mmmm…” he answered as he slowly pried them open. Then he blinked a few times, taking in the scene. 

 

“What happened?” he croaked, confused. It didn’t last very long as all of a sudden it was as if the figurative window blinds had been closed as his face morphed into an unreadable expression.

 

“You passed out and fell,” Ziva provided, concern evident in her voice.

 

“DiNozzo’s don’t pass out,” Tony mumbled.

 

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Then what would you call it?”

 

Tony hesitated, avoiding eye contact. “A brief lapse in consciousness? Besides, I didn’t fall, I attacked the floor,” he added with a sarcastic smirk. Then he gradually got up into a sitting position.

 

Gibbs recognized the deflection as what it was. The other eyebrow joined the first one. 

 

“With your face?” McGee asked, clearly not buying it.

 

Tony shrugged. “What can I say? I’m skilled.”

 

The expression on Gibbs’ face was neutral but his eyes belied his scepticism and worry.

 

“Ducky. Now,” he said with a voice that brooked no arguments.

 

Tony’s face hardened as determined green eyes met steely blue ones.

 

“I just got a bit lightheaded. _I’m_ _fine_.”

 

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. “You passed out because I slapped your head. It’s either Ducky or the hospital. Your call.”

 

The ex-marine thought he saw a flicker of panic fleeting through Tony’s eyes before the younger man grumbled, “Fine, I’ll go see Ducky. But seriously though, it’s not a big deal. Just a little cold.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have struggled quite a lot with this chapter. There has been a continuous cycle of deleting and rewriting some parts (most parts) and still the result isn’t what I’d want it to be. I feel as if this story has been on a slippery slope starting from “okay” and now hitting “meh”. xD I’m particularly disappointed in the ending, but they’ve never been my forte anyway. I’m going to post this now though because I don’t think I can get this any better. Hopefully some of you still enjoy it!

His heart was pounding in his chest with such ferocity he was almost afraid it was going to break out of his ribcage. Tony was sitting in the corner of one of the cool autopsy tables, with Ducky hovering over him like a mother-hen. He could do this. He had talked his way out of worst situations. He’d donned on his annoyed mask, glaring at his teammates huddled close by. 

 

Ducky flickered a penlight in his eyes, momentarily blinding him. 

 

“Hmm…” the elderly brit hummed, proceeding into peeking at the goose-egg in the back of his head.

 

“Any nausea? Dizziness?”

 

“Nope and nope,” Tony lied through his teeth, sounding disinterested.

 

“Can you tell me your name?”

 

“Anthony D. DiNozzo, I’m at NCIS HQ, today is friday 8th of January 2010 and Obama is the president.”

 

Ducky chuckled lightly at that. “Have you lost consciousness at any point?” 

 

Gibbs answered before Tony had time to open his mouth.

 

“I slapped him on the head and he passed out,” he said gruffly, looking slightly guilty.

 

“Oh dear…” Ducky muttered. “Well it seems as if you have managed to give yourself a minor concussion, though I hardly think it’s due to Jethro’s actions. Would you care to share with us Anthony?” 

 

Concern clouded the good doctor’s features, making Tony feel a little bad for lying.

 

“Fine, I tripped during the morning and hit my head. So I’m clumsy, sue me,” he proclaimed with exasperation, rolling his eyes. Not the smartest thing to do considering the concussion and all.

 

Gibbs narrowed his eyes once more and Tony saw he didn’t believe it one bit. The younger agent’s heart started racing even faster as he stood up and begun to walk towards the door, feigning nonchalance.  “Whatever, I’m outta here.”

 

The ex-marine grabbed his left wrist in order to prevent him from leaving. What Gibbs didn’t expect was a sudden hiss of pain escaping from Tony’s lips. Alarmed, Gibbs gently rolled up his sleeve while all fight seemed to have left the other agent. The older man sucked in air between his teeth as he saw the gauze wrapped around his SFA’s wrist.

 

“What’s this Tony?” he asked softly, sounding calmer than he felt.

 

The usually eloquent man faltered a bit in his answer, desperation seeping in faintly. “I, uh… Fell down the stairs?”

 

Gibbs closed his eyes and opened them slowly, trying to catch Tony’s gaze. God he hoped he was wrong about this one. “Did he do this to you?” 

 

McGee and Ziva looked bewildered, having no idea what their boss was talking about. Gibbs, on the other hand, studied Tony’s face intently, not missing the small cracks in his mask as Tony seemed to be fighting down panic. 

 

This was all the answer Gibbs needed.

 

In seconds the other agent’s mask was as impenetrable as always as he replied steadily, no emotion in his voice, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Where else?” Gibbs continued with the soft prosody.

 

“What where else?”

 

“Where else did your father hurt you?”

 

Tony deflated, as if he was a balloon and someone just let out all the air. He didn’t meet their eyes as he sighed. “Right knee, think it’s sprained, a few bruised, maybe cracked ribs and…” he hesitated.

 

Understanding and horror dawned on the faces of Ziva and McGee. They were struggling to grasp this since Senior had been so  _ nice _ towards everyone.

 

“And what?” Gibbs prompted gently.

 

Tony shrugged, fiddling with his jacket. “Some bruises.”

 

Gibbs took some wet wipes from the corner of the room and brought them to Tony without saying anything. The younger man sighed as he began to wipe the makeup of his face and neck area. Seeing the slightly fading bruise on his agent’s cheek and especially the finger-shaped ones on his neck nearly made the ex-marine lose his control and go after the bastard who did this to their Tony. 

 

There was an audible  _ thump _ as McGee slid down next to the wall and made contact with the floor. He couldn’t believe this. Tony was always so  _ cocky _ and  _ confident _ . His current view of who Tony was, was being shattered into pieces.

 

Meanwhile, Ducky took Tony’s hand gingerly and examined it with a sad expression. “We should take some x-rays, just to be on the safe side.”

 

That’s when Ziva stepped up, looking fierce. “One word, Tony, and he’s gone. And I don’t leave behind evidence,” she said with a vicious grin.

 

This got a reaction out of Tony as his eyes snapped to Ziva’s, flashing dangerously as he pulled his hand out of Ducky’s. “ _ What?! _ No, nuhhuh, not happening. I’m not some damn damsel in distress, waiting for my white knight in shining armor, nope. I can take care of myself just  _ fine _ , been doing it most of my life.”

 

He glared at them. “Besides, I doubt he came here for  _ me _ , he’s made it pretty clear before I’m not worth his time. He had probably heard about what happened to Prince Sayif from one of his “contacts”” Tony made air-quotes with his good hand “and when he realized  _ we _ were on the case he wanted to verify it or something. And I don’t think you could even find him if you wanted,  _ David _ , since I’m pretty certain he realized he crossed a line there. So my educated guess? Right now he’s probably on some private tropical island, surrounded by the money he’s gotten through all his shady business deals, not planning on ever returning. He might actually even think me dead.”

 

Tony then gave a short humorless laugh, slightly disgusted with himself, which inevitably turned into a coughing fit.

 

After he recovered, a short pause followed. 

 

“Why would he think you’re dead?” A pale McGee asked slowly, struggling to comprehend all the informantion while being incredibly lightheaded.

 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe since he almost strangled me yesterday, no biggie. I mean, it would have been a different thing if I’d still been a kid, but I think boss here actually made him feel uncomfortable.” Tony gave the fakest smile they’d ever seen on his lips. 

 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I like the guy, I actually kind of hate him but…” he hesitated, casting his gaze downwards with a sigh and gently rubbing the back of his neck, “he’s still my father you know? He’s the only family I have left,” he finished quietly, shoulders slightly slumping.

 

And didn’t that just break Gibbs’ heart. Tony should never have to look so lost and defeated. He doubted he could ever fully forgive himself for letting this happen,  _ right under his damn nose _ . He should have noticed, he should have prevented this. But this wasn’t about him. This was about Tony.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gibbs said, the gruff voice nearly betraying his emotions.

 

Tony gave no indication of hearing him.

 

So Gibbs walked in front of him and gently took hold of his jaw. Then he lifted it without any resistance from the younger man so that Tony’s eyes met his. Now that he got a good look at his agent Gibbs could see that Tony didn’t look just tired as he had thought earlier, he seemed absolutely exhausted.

 

“Ya hear me Tony?” he said quietly. “That bastard is  _ not _ your family, he lost the right to that the first time he laid a hand you. But you do have a family, right here, and we got your back. That’s what family does.”

 

The raw hope glimmering in the green eyes, the one Tony clearly did his best to hide, shattered his heart all over again. So he did something very uncharacteristic of him: lightly pulled his SFA into a hug.

 

This gesture of friendship and safety made Tony tense up. The younger agent made no move to respond to the hug, just stayed as still as humanly possible, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. Seconds turned into minutes before very gradually, Tony began to relax and rested his forehead against Gibbs’ shoulder with a small sigh. 

 

“Semper Fi,” the ex-marine whispered.

 

They stayed like that for a moment, none of them moving or talking. After a while, McGee started picking himself up the ground.  Gibbs released his hold as McGee approached them on shaky legs.

 

“He’s right Tony. We won’t turn our backs on you,” he said, the lingering paleness of his skin in contrast with the determination in his voice and appearance as he hesitantly put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

 

Tony nodded absentmindedly while chewing his bottom lip, still avoiding eye contact. His eyes seemed red-rimmed and moist as he blinked rapidly, collecting himself.

 

“We will not throw you to the wombs,” Ziva added passionately as she came closer so that they almost formed a half circle in front of their injured teammate. 

 

McGee’s expression changed awkward as he corrected Ziva, making Tony chuckle mildly.

 

Gibbs looked at his team, Ziva and McGee arguing over “wolves” and “wombs” as Tony watched them, looking amused and more composed now. Even though his mask seemed to be back on it’s place, Tony was nowhere near alright. But maybe he would get there with their support. And Gibbs would respect Tony’s wishes and not go after Senior, though if they someday happened to bump into each other in some dark alley… Oh yes, Gibbs was very much looking forward to that meeting, paperwork be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So as I have said earlier, I don’t really know how to continue from here so I guess this’ll be the end. However, if this has sparked interest/inspiration in any of you, feel free to write your own idea of what could happen next, or if you want to you can take my idea and completely rewrite the whole thing! All I ask for return is that you’d send me a link to your story so that I can come and read it! :)


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